


You Missed It

by nicepeaches



Series: Oikuro Week [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, OiKuro Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 11:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3325361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicepeaches/pseuds/nicepeaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa fucks up a lot of things. Some things turn out better than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Missed It

**Author's Note:**

> just a foreword, i don't quite have a word with whatever oikawa has in this fic?? it might be some kind of general anxiety but i'm not really sure. shrugs
> 
> for day one of oikuro week: first meeting/ fate

Oikawa hates Mondays. There is nothing Oikawa hates more than Mondays. Kageyama Tobio is more tolerable than Mondays are, and that’s saying something. Kageyama is a pain in the ass to deal with even on the best days. Oikawa is happy that he doesn’t get to see Kageyama very often. 

This Monday, in theory, shouldn’t be as bad as Oikawa is anticipating, but there’s that predetermined bad-attitude toward the day that kind of ruins it for him in the first place. Maybe he should try cheering up every once in a while. It might help him out. He’ll never know, though, since he’s so goddamn set in his ways that it’ll kill him to change. 

It’s overcast and rainy, just the way Oikawa would like it. If he didn’t feel like he's getting a cold and have god-knows how many bruises on his hips from yesterday’s evening practice, he might think the day is looking up. But he doesn’t. His legs feel too heavy and his head feels even more so. He feels like he’d be content to lay in bed forever, listening to the gentle drum of the rain on his roof and fade in and out of a hazy sleep. Maybe he’d even play video games for a while. Maybe. 

The room spins as he sits up and reaches for his glasses on the bedside table. He thinks he should eat, but that might involve turning on the stove. Oikawa doesn’t like turning on the stove. He’s afraid he’ll forget to turn it off. Oikawa throws on the pair of pants closest to his bed, they’re all the same anyway. He grabs a soda from the fridge and goes on his way, stopping at the door to shoot a glance around the apartment. The lights are off, everything is as it should be. He leaves without another backward glance. 

The train ride to school is boring. It always is. Despite his reluctance to fall asleep on any kind of public transit, Oikawa finds himself drifting in and out of a daze. Sleep clings to him, heavy and nothing short of unpleasant. Oikawa gives up, eventually, falling deep into the hold of whatever sleep he hadn’t gotten the night before. 

—

Oikawa wakes up feeling groggy and terrible and _much_ worse than he did when he fell asleep. His head throbs painfully and the train car is empty. It’s still moving, though. He sits up and looks out the window and comes to the startling realization that he has no fucking clue where he is. He flips open his phone and _holy shit. He's been on the train for two and a half hours_. 

Oikawa doesn't know whether he wants to scream or cry or maybe just try and find out where the hell he is. He feels like a kid lost in a grocery store—a 17 year-old kid with serious separation anxiety and emotional instability—and he might as well be. He's clueless enough to pass as a kid.

When the train comes to an abrupt halt and the doors open, the traincar floods almost immediately with passengers, and Oikawa just barely makes it out unscathed. He glances upward, fingers so tight on his schoolbag that his knuckles are turning white, and the characters there on the sign are as plain as day. 

_TOKYO TRAIN STATION_

He's not in Miyagi anymore, but it's almost as if the rain had followed him. Droplets fall from the sky and stream down his cheeks in a steady succession, and Oikawa Tooru is afraid. 

He doesn't know what route the train takes, much less when the next train will arrive, so he locates the nearest bench and sits down on it. He puts the strap of his schoolbag around his shoulder and pulls his legs into his chest. This makes Oikawa calm down, but only sometimes. 

"Are you lost?" Someone asks, but Oikawa doesn't answer. "Hey." The person sits down next to Oikawa on the bench. "Are you okay?" This person is male, from the sound of it, and very young, maybe Oikawa's age. Oikawa can't tell solely from their voice, but when he looks up, something funny happens to his stomach and he gets this tingly feeling all over. 

The guy in front of him is, _imagine this_ , kind of attractive. His hair is a disaster, bangs hanging over one side of his face and shorter strands sticking out every which way, but other than that he's got a really nice face. He's got a really nice everything. 

The thing that really gets to Oikawa is the fact that this guy is genuinely _concerned_ , and when he asks Oikawa, "Are you okay?" Oikawa's chest seizes in a way that lets him know that he is completely and utterly fucked. 

Oikawa nods weakly, trying not to look at this guy because _Jesus Christ he doesn't even know this person's name_. The guy next to him seems to take that as an acceptable answer, because he gets up and leaves, and then Oikawa is alone again.

Oikawa doesn't know what to feel. He feels like he shouldn't be upset about the guy leaving, but when he thinks about it, he really is, and it's strange to him how quickly he can get attached. 

But then the unthinkable happens; the guy comes _back_ , holding an umbrella and a two breakfast sandwiches and Oikawa really can't believe his eyes. Pointy-hair guy sits down next to Oikawa and holds the umbrella between his side and his right arm, offering Oikawa the breakfast sandwich with his left. 

Oikawa takes the sandwich cautiously and is irrationally pleased to discover that it's still warm. "You could be a serial killer," Oikawa says. "This sandwich could be poisoned." 

"It's not, I swear," The guy says, waving his hands in front of him. "I'll take a bite if you really don't believe me." 

Oikawa smiles. "I believe you." He takes a bite of the breakfast sandwich and it's probably the best thing he's ever eaten.

The guy next to him smiles. "I'm Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsurou." Oikawa pauses, because he's heard that name before. He doesn't remember where. 

"Oikawa," He says, around a mouthful of breakfast sandwich.

"It's nice to meet you," Kuroo says. He's not eating his sandwich, Oikawa notices. He doesn't point it out, though. Kuroo probably has his reasons. "You're not from around here, though." 

“You can tell?” Oikawa asks. It’s only then that he realizes that Kuroo is carrying not only a school bag, but a sports bag, and everything sort of clicks into place from there. “You play volleyball.” 

Kuroo pauses, looks down at his bag and looks back at Oikawa. “Y—Yeah. Suppose I do.” 

“Me too!” Oikawa’s face lights up, suddenly, and this takes Kuroo by surprise. It’s not a bad kind of surprise. “Who do you play for?”

“Nekoma,” Kuroo says. “You’ve probably heard of us.” 

Oikawa nods, because, yes, the name _does_ sound familiar when he really thinks about it. “You’re a Tokyo school, right?”

“Yeah.” Kuroo nods and fiddles with the hem of his jacket. “Where are you from, then?”

“Aoba Johsai, in the Miyagi prefecture,” Oikawa says, almost too nonchalant for the current situation he’s in.

Kuroo’s eyes widen. “Miyagi?! What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I missed my stop,” Oikawa laughs nervously and takes another bite of the sandwich. “And now I’m here, and I’m lost, and I have no idea how the trains even _work_ here, let alone how to get a ticket back to Miyagi.” 

“Yo, I can get you a ticket back, it’s no big deal,” Kuroo says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. “It’s two-thousand for a trip.” Kuroo hands Oikawa the bills and Oikawa just sits there and stares at them. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate it, he does; he only has a few bills and maybe 3 coins in his pocket. In short, he’s broke. 

“Thank you,” Oikawa takes the bills and looks up at Kuroo. He has nice eyes. 

“Yeah. It's no problem, really." Kuroo looks downward, and Oikawa is tempted to think he looks embarrassed. 

Oikawa fidgets nervously, folding the bills in half and unfolding them all over again. He puts the money in his pocket and pushes his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose. "Uh," he begins, and every nerve in his body seems to be moving against him all at once. "Can I uh—Can I have your number, or something?" 

Kuroo looks up and raises an eyebrow. Oikawa is afraid he's crossed a line, but then Kuroo pulls out his phone and unlocks it. "Okay," he says, and gives Oikawa his number. "You have to promise me something, though." 

There's an edge to Kuroo's voice that makes Oikawa uneasy. "What is it?"

And then Kuroo, bless his soul, says, "Text me when you get back to Miyagi." 

Oikawa's heart melts. He doesn't have time to say goodbye when Kuroo's watch beeps and sends Kuroo into a frenzied state, but he waves as he watches Kuroo weave through the crowd like some kind of cat, even though he knows Kuroo can't see him anymore.

When he looks down into his lap, Kuroo's breakfast sandwich is there, and he knows Kuroo hasn't forgotten it. 

—

Only on the way back to Miyagi does Oikawa realize how long he'd been sleeping. He also realizes how nice the countryside is. Sure, it's not very nice when it's all rainy and overcast, but Oikawa finds it calming to imagine how the fields would look without the dark shadows the clouds cast everywhere. 

The rain picks up again when the train pulls into the Miyagi station. Oikawa steps outside and just stands there for a while, letting the rain soak into his hair and clothing. He texts Kuroo. 

_Me [11:30 AM]: i just got to the station :)_

After little consideration and a great deal of distaste for any kind of school environment, Oikawa decides to walk home. He's wet and uncomfortable and just plain tired. He'd fallen asleep on the train, after all. His phone buzzes as soon as he leaves the station. 

_Kuroo [11:36 AM]: is it raining in miyagi :p_

It's just a text. Kuroo was just a stranger who happened to be willing to help him out. Oikawa doesn't know what's happening, doesn't know why his heart is beating against his ribcage like he's fucking _dying_ , but he knows that he wants to board the next train to tokyo and endure another round of the two hours and thirty minutes it takes to reach Tokyo station. He doesn't know _anything_ about Kuroo: doesn't know his favorite color, whether or not he likes spicy food or not, what he puts on his rice, goddamn it, Oikawa didn't even ask what _position_ Kuroo played in volleyball. Oikawa quickly replies with: 

_Me [11:37 AM]: yeah it's really nice it was so hot yesterday :(_

Oikawa walks until he gets back to his apartment and immediately tosses every piece of clothing on his body into the laundry hamper. He'll have to deal with laundry early this week, since that was his last clean shirt. His phone chimes from where he's set it down on the counter. 

_Kuroo [11:48 AM]: did you get the sandwich_

That one makes Oikawa smile because, yes, he did get the sandwich, and he'd eaten it on the way back to Miyagi.

_Me [11:49 AM]: ya it was rly good when can i come visit so you can buy me more breakfast sandwiches :)_

Oikawa isn't serious, of course. Or perhaps he is, and he just doesn't realize it. Friends visit each other? Right? Friends. The reply Oikawa doesn't expect is precisely the one he gets. 

_Kuroo [11:50 AM]: im free saturday after practice and all of sunday i think unless my friend demands i come over to play video games_

Oikawa almost drops his phone. Before he can change his mind, he types a quick response. 

_Me [11:50]: meet me at the station at one-ish on saturday_

Kuroo's response is almost immediate.

_Kuroo [11:51]: holy shit really ill see you then_

_Me [11:52]: see u then_

—

The rest of the week is sunny and bright. There is no sign of rain, no clouds, no forecast. Despite all of this, when Oikawa wakes up on Saturday morning, the sky is gray and heavy with the promise of rain. Oikawa's head pulses excruciatingly and he rubs his temples, seeking some, if any, form of relief. None comes. He looks at the clock and his stomach drops when he sees that it's nearly 1:30. He reaches for his phone and finds multiple missed calls from Kuroo, including a few texts. He redials Kuroo and every ring of the phone sends a wave of pain through his head. 

"Oikawa?" Kuroo sounds distressed. 

"It's me," Oikawa says. "I just woke up, I'm sorry." 

There's a pause. "Are you okay?" Kuroo asks. 

Oikawa tries to hold back a sigh and mostly succeeds. "Yeah," he says, but it comes out as more of a whisper than he'd intended. 

Oikawa can almost hear the frown in Kuroo's voice. "No you're not. What's up?"

"Headache," Oikawa admits, defeated. 

Kuroo pauses again. "What's your address?" 

Oikawa freezes. He hasn't had anyone over in quite some time, and the only person he really lets in his house is Iwaizumi, and that's on a good day. "No," He says. "No. You're not—Not for me." 

"I want to see you," Kuroo says, and it sounds like a love confession more than a simple declaration. The feeling that Kuroo's words send through Oikawa's chest almost amplifies the pain in his head. He gives Kuroo the address. 

"If you don't bring aspirin, I'm going to fucking rip your head off," Oikawa whispers into the phone, and hangs up. 

—

Kuroo shows up at Oikawa's door nearly two hours later carrying two heaping bags of groceries and a blanket. When he unpacks the groceries on the counter, he looks equipped to take care of someone with the bubonic plague. 

"You're not wearing your glasses," Kuroo points out, and Oikawa winces as he pulls a pot from the cupboard and fills it with water for noodles. Kuroo reaches out to turn the stove on but Oikawa's hand is quicker; he grabs Kuroo's wrist and the exertion makes his head throb. To Oikawa's surprise, Kuroo draws his hand back immediately, leaving Oikawa to handle turning on the stove. 

"My glasses make my head hurt, sometimes," Oikawa says, flicking on the burner. 

Oikawa decides that he likes the way Kuroo doesn't ask questions. Maybe someday he'll give Kuroo answers to the questions he doesn't ask, but Oikawa thinks it's nice that Kuroo doesn't ask why Oikawa refuses to take his eyes off of the stove. Kuroo doesn't ask why Oikawa picks at the hem of his shirt every so-often, and Kuroo doesn't ask why Oikawa bites his bottom lip. Oikawa doesn't like people who ask. 

Kuroo doesn't ask why Oikawa checks to make sure the stove is off twice, but Kuroo _does_ ask what flavor ramen Oikawa would like. He asks how Oikawa's week was. He asks what position Oikawa plays and what Oikawa's favorite color is and what he puts on his rice. Oikawa learns all of these things about Kuroo, as well, and when Kuroo hands him the aspirin, his headache has reduced to nothing but a dull throb. He takes the aspirin anyway. 

He doesn't remember who decided on the movie, but Kuroo had apparently been one step of Oikawa when he'd bought a shitload of microwave popcorn. Oikawa wants to watch _Cowboys vs Aliens_ and Kuroo wants to watch _Pulp Fiction_ , but they end up settling for _Alien vs Predator,_ which, all things considered, isn't really a compromise at all. 

Despite Oikawa's affinity for watching and collecting alien movies, he still gets scared every once in a while, and _Alien vs Predator_ isn't really wholesome family entertainment. Lucky for Oikawa, Kuroo makes a great 'holy-shit-this-is-terrifying-I-don't-want-to-watch-this' shield, and doesn't complain when Oikawa grabs the back of his shirt and hides behind his shoulder. Oikawa grabs Kuroo's hand instinctively, and suddenly whatever terror the movie was causing him is nothing compared to the beating of his own heart. Oikawa freezes and he can feel Kuroo tense beside him. 

"I like you," Oikawa says, and Kuroo doesn't let go of his hand. His voice is crystal clear amidst the faint chatter of the television. "I like you because you don't ask questions. And maybe that's selfish of me, but I want to give this a try." He chances a look at Kuroo, who stares at him, wide-eyed and clearly in some kind of minor shock.

"I thought—since—" Kuroo searches for words that aren't there.

"Just kiss me," Oikawa says, finally releasing his grip on Kuroo's hand. "We'll figure the rest out later. We will." 

Oikawa can't hear the screams of people being tormented by aliens on the TV as he presses his lips to Kuroo's, winds his fingers into Kuroo's hair and finds it to be every bit as soft as he'd imagined. He's glad he fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a [tumblr](iwaoii.tumblr.com) :^ )
> 
> i can't believe i got this up on time?? me?? on time for a challenge??? what is this


End file.
